


Paint

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Just a little ditty where Blaine paints, Kurt fusses, and cute fluffy fluff ensues. Mpreg!Blaine. Originally posted on Tumblr April 9th 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint

Taking a step back to admire his handiwork, Blaine was pretty impressed with himself. 

For weeks now, he and Kurt had been dancing around whether or not to get started on paining the nursery, both unsure of how soon was too soon to decorate when they didn’t even know the sex of the baby yet, and both unable to find the time in their busy schedules to even buy the paint they had decided on, let alone actually do any painting.

Fortunately, Blaine had been given the rest of the week off by his generous boss at the kids’ theatre group where he worked because he “looked like he needed a break” (her words, not his - he’d wanted to work the rest of the week because he and Kurt needed the extra income for the baby but she wouldn’t listen) and had gone down to the nearest hardware store that morning to buy what he needed.

It was going to be a surprise for Kurt, something to make him smile when he came home from work, and something to keep Blaine busy in the process. There was only so much bed rest he could handle before he went stir-crazy, and he wanted to be as productive as possible before he got too big to even put on his own shoes in the mornings.

Stretching slowly to try and alleviate some of the ache that had settled at the base of his spine, he rubbed circles over his six-months-pregnant belly as he carefully surveyed the wall in front of him for streaks, blotches, and other uneven brush strokes - things that Kurt would notice in an instant, with his trained eye for detail - but all appeared to be fine. In fact, a hired decorator probably couldn’t have done a better paint job, even if Blaine said so himself. 

He couldn’t wait for Kurt to see it. 

But first, he really needed to shower; painting all day had left streaks of pale blue across his nose and cheeks, his hands, his bare feet, and a good portion of his clothes - though, luckily, they were only an old pair of sweats that had once belonged to Kurt, the cuffs rolled up several times to stop him from tripping over them, and a too-small t-shirt that stretched over his prominent belly. Even his hair, which had come loose from its gel hold with the effort of the day’s work, was speckled blue.

He was thwarted in his plans to step under a hot shower and strip away the paint and sweat from his body, however, when he heard the door of their apartment open and Kurt call out, “Hey, sweetie, I’m home!”

Kurt was early; or perhaps he’d simply lost track of the time. In any case, Blaine rushed as fast as he could (which wasn’t really all that fast, given his current condition) to the half-open door of the nursery, determined to block Kurt’s access to the room before he could spoil the surprise for himself when he came looking through the apartment for him. 

“Kurt!” he greeted, smiling when his husband came into view, in the process of unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, something he always did when he got home from work as a way of “loosening up” and settling in to relax for the night. “How was your day?”

“Ugh, a nightmare,” Kurt grumbled, pushing a hand through his hair and coming to meet Blaine in a sweet kiss, “don’t ask me about it. I just want to put on yoga pants, eat take-out, and relax tonight. Sound good?”

“Definitely,” Blaine replied, “but as long as it’s not Thai. Apparently it’s the newest in a long list of foods the baby won’t let me eat without wanting to throw up,” he added, grimacing as he patted the crest of his belly, where the baby had decided to suddenly kick him, hard. 

He held in a gasp, but Kurt saw right through him; he rested a hand gently on the small of Blaine’s back, pressing himself in close. “You okay? Can I get you anything?”

“No, no, I’m fine, really,” Blaine insisted, waving away Kurt’s fussing with the hand that wasn’t braced on his belly. “Anyway, there’s something I wanted to show you.” He grinned now, bouncing on the balls of his feet despite the ache in his back and the assault on his ribs being carried out by their baby, making him wince as he turned to the closed door of the nursery.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed. Kurt complied. 

Almost giddy with anticipation, nervous of what Kurt would think of his handiwork, he pushed open the door to the nursery and took Kurt’s hand to lead him through into the room, warning him to keep his eyes closed until he told him he could open them. 

“Okay, open your eyes!”

Kurt opened them - and gasped in surprise, his mouth falling open in shock as he took in the whole back wall of the room, which was painted a soft, pale blue, a color it hadn’t been yesterday. 

“You did all of this?” Kurt asked in wonder. “But Blaine, you’re supposed to be resting! The doctor told you not to over-exert yourself, oh my God, this is  _wonderful_  but you really, really should have told me so I could have helped you. What if something had happened? And the paint fumes! Paint fumes are bad for the baby!”

“Kurt, Kurt, calm down,” Blaine soothed, grabbing his husband’s hands and bringing them to his chest, lacing their fingers together. “I’m fine, okay? I wanted to surprise you. And we’ve been talking about it for weeks and I wanted to get started, y’know, to do something nice for you. And to stop me from going crazy with boredom, because soon I’ll be far too big to do anything except lay on the couch like a hippopotamus.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said softly, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s lips. “I love it, thank you. But you really shouldn’t have done it all by yourself, not when you’re twenty-five weeks pregnant.” He reached down to place his hands on either side of his husband’s belly, feeling their baby move and kick under his skin. “Although it does explain why your hair looks like moldy bread.”

“What? Oh, yeah. That. I was planning on taking a shower before you got home, but you were early, so…” Blaine shrugged, his cheeks turning pink with the embarrassment of Kurt seeing him covered in paint. 

“Maybe we can  _both_  take a shower, hmmm?” Kurt murmured, kissing Blaine again, slower and deeper this time. “I’ll even wash your hair for you.”

“Sounds perfect,” Blaine replied, chasing Kurt’s mouth as he pulled away, far too content to point out that he was having a hard time standing in the shower for very long nowadays anyway. 

Kurt would always help him get what he needed; and he was so, so happy to be starting a family with him. He wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
